A Forever Kind of Love
by jenniemae2013
Summary: Quil&Claire "Gravitation is not responsible for people falling in love." -Albert Einstein
1. Prologue

**A/N- Hi guys! This is my first work of fanfiction, or my first published one at least. This idea just sort of came to me. I'm not sure yet if it will become more than a one-shot, or if this is how I want to leave it. Let me know what you think of it after you read it. If you like it, I might be inspired to continue. ;-) Also, keep in mind that I haven't had a beta for this, so please excuse any errors! Shutting up now. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer- I'm not Stephenie Meyer, as nice as that would be. I don't own any shapeshifters or vamps, only the plot, and maybe a name or two. :-)**

Piece by piece. That's how you're supposed to let go of the facade you've created. That's how you're supposed to shed every lie you've told people about yourself. That's how you're supposed to become you. If you even want to show anyone the real you, in the first place.

Piece by piece. That's how it should be. But for you, nothing is how it should be.

You defy every shred of rationalism that exists in this world. Every bit of scientific reason.

It isn't easy- being yourself that is; letting go of the safety that life as a chameleon insures. It's hard living out in the open; letting people see the real you, letting them see every flaw, every blemish, every sin, all the dark residue that has gradually built itself up on your soul.

It's hard when you do it the proper way- on your own terms, terms that don't leave room to compensate for what the supernatural calls for.

But when the supernatural IS involved?

It's a total nightmare. Your soul is bared to guys that range from being a one-time acquaintance who you hate, or used to at least, to being your best friends that you thought had ditched you. You have no choice.

And they hear every dream, every stupid wish, every conversation, every freaking thought. There's no hiding. There's no escaping.

They know. They know things you never wanted anyone to know- the things you always so paranoid that someone find out and harass you for.

You never wanted this. You never asked for this. Hell, you never thought something like this was even possible.

One minute your walking on that narrow, nearly unworn path towards that tree house your grandfather built you for your eighth birthday to get away from the anger you feel now that your two best friends are ignoring you. The next, your body is exploding. Granted, you haven't felt like yourself for awhile now, and at first you think you're delusional, but then there's this voice in your head that sounds a lot like traitor Jake, and you're looking down at furry paws. PAWS!!! You freak, and you run, but they catch you. At first you're afraid, because they're massive. Then you realize, much to your misfortune, that they're the same size as you. You can see yourself through their minds. The big black one is looking at you with an almost sad expression, and then you see the blurred figure of a scarred girl, and feel a rush of guilt, but this powerful love like none you've ever experienced. You feel a flood of happiness coming from the two that you know must be your friends, who know that now you won't hate them anymore because you're in the know, too.

The other two are indifferent. And one is a bit tempermental.

You adjust slowly. This kind of freedom is exhilarating, though, and while at first you're shocked that you're grandpa already knows, it becomes a blessing, because you could be like Embry, and have to struggle with a concerned mom.

Over the next few months you relish in your "duties," as alpha Sam likes to call them. Hunting bloodsuckers comes naturally, but those voices are still always there. That's really the only hindrance about this life. Soon, though, it will prove to be beneficial.

Because Emily's nieces will come one weekend, and, at Sam's insistence, you will be there for dinner to meet them. They are family, after all, and they'll be here often because Emily's brother-in-law just got a job as a paralegal in Forks. They're moving to La Push to be closer not only to his job, but also so that Emily can help Dena with the girls so she herself can go back to work for extra funds to buy the new house.

You don't meet Todd and Dena because they've left before you get there- you and Embry had patrol.

You get there, expecting a hot meal after a day of running, and maybe a screaming kid or two wanting to watch their Barney videos.

But then you see her.

And you know that you'll never be able to look away.

You can't explain it.

It isn't weird at all to you that your life now revolves around a toddler.

Sam, on the other hand, isn't too pleased.

He drags you outside, and you push against him with all your might-so hard that you can't control your furry little problem anymore. You phase in his backyard, and he immediately follows suit.

Then he knows. He understands, and it's not like he can say anything to you, because of Emily and everything.

He takes you back inside, where you proceed to fondly ogle this kid you don't even know.

Your pack brothers will proceed to poke fun at you for the rest of the night.

Emily is wary at first, but she knows how Sam is with her. She knows you'll be the best thing that could ever happen to her youngest niece.

"Her name's Claire," Emily tells you.

'Claire."

It's the most beautiful thing you've ever heard.

**So let me know what you guys think! Please R&R! **


	2. Chapter 1

**Hey guys! So here's the first chapter. It's short, but I figured I'd give you guys more than just a prologue to go on until I get my next longer chapter up. And sorry if the second person was a bit confusing in the prologue. I felt like it was the best way to get into Quil's head, but it's a difficult view to write from. And by th eway, the quote in the summary will come into play later on. It isn't random! I promise. Anyhoo......**

**PLEASE R&R!!! It will be greatly appreciated...and I PROMISE to respond back. I like getting feedback and constructive criticism. So leave a review!**

There aren't too many things in my life that I am completely certain of, but if there is one thing I know all too well, it is that Delainey Claire Walker is going to be the death of me.

Any sane person would ask me if being so melodramatic and cliché is really necessary. And any sane person would hope to hear the answer "no." Truth be told, I know that maybe I go a little overboard with my Claire-bear's safety. Like that one time she got a paper cut in Kindergarten and came to my truck with a band-aid on the end of her tiny thumb. Now, I didn't react nearly as badly as people, namely Seth, who was in the car with me when I picked her, say I did.

Yes, I did stop the car immediately when she showed me her "boo-boo," as she so aptly named the horrid pathology.

And yes, I did give her the biggest, albeit somewhat awkward because of our positions, hug that I could possibly give a 5 year old.

But no. I did not almost cry when she took off the bandage and showed me the blood on the gauze thingy.

Or maybe I did.

But is it really so bad that I'm somewhat protective of her?

Her parents surely don't seem to mind the extra help in keeping their child out of the hands of a sadistic rapist.

Okay. Maybe that's taking it a bit too far, but I'm pretty sure they're still digging the free nanny service. I can't complain though, because Todd and Dena have been extremely pleasant about this whole "Hi! I'm Quil! You don't know me, but I'm your toddler's werewolf soul mate, and I kill vampires for a living!" thing. At first, I had been certain that they would report me to the police for being a sexual predator, and then ship Samily (as the pack had so fondly nicknamed them) off to the loony bin.

But God bless that Emily. God bless her and the priceless attempts she made to win her sister over.

And God bless my tribal chief grandfather whose position had...further encouraged the Walker patriarch and matriarch to continue with their move to La Push.

But anyway...

The reason I'm even fretting about my overprotectiveness is that today, the eight year old self-proclaimed-and I kid you not, she called herself this- "invincible, courageous warrior princess" Claire jumped off the Dancing Hawk cliff today. She jumped off a cliff!

And do you want to know WHY she jumped off of a cliff?

Because her "inner chi" was compelling her to live in the moment.

First of all, I want to know what the hell kind of eight year old can pronounce these words, let alone use them correctly in a proper sentence. I'm technically twenty-one years old and I wouldn't even begin to think of saying something like that. Secondly, what are schools teaching kids these days, huh? What happened to adding and subtracting and reading books like "The Very Hungry Caterpillar"? Do the little tikes now have the option of enrolling in "How to Be a Hippy 101"? Inner chi. If I could hunt down her inner chi, I would, and then I would give it a beat down like it has never experienced before.

So, I had just gotten off of patrol and was driving to her house to pick her up for our Saturday night ice cream ritual when I spotted her walking along the dirt path that went up to the cliff. Before I could stop my truck she spotted me and took off in a sprint. She knew I wouldn't even let her jump off the kiddie swing her dad had built her behind their house, much less let the little monster have a go at a cliff!

I made it out of the trees when I saw her go into a freefall. All I could think of was that I had lost her. There were freaking rocks down there for God's sake! And it was a thirty foot drop into the ocean. If the rocks didn't get her, the force of slamming into the water surely would.

I flung myself- and when I say that I flung myself I mean I literally threw myself- off of this cliff after her. I hit the water hard, and if it hadn't been for my mutant chromosome or whatever it is, I probably would've been knocked out. I mean, I wasn't exactly thinking "technique" when I jumped. But I have never come up out of the water so fast...ever. As I thrust myself up out of the water I spun around frantically, panicking. And then I heard her beautiful, boisterous laughter, and saw her bobbing up and down about five yards from me.

I got her back to shore safely, then screamed at her like I've never screamed at anyone before, tears leaking out of my eyes the whole time in relief that she was okay.

When I finished my tirade, I stood staring at her, immediately remorseful for yelling at her, but she just looked at me and started sniggering some more.

"Silly Quilly," she told me between gulps of air. Then she delivered the infamous inner chi line. I got this dumbfounded look on my face, and she just kept on giggling.

Now that we're both thoroughly saturating the cloth seats in the front of my pick-up on the way to tell her mom what a naughty girl she's been, I'm the one who's laughing.

**Love it? Hate it? REVIEW IT! Thanks!**

**~dg09**


	3. Chapter 2

**So...this story has over 200 hits!!! But only 7 reviews. I'm not gonna set a bar for reviews, but I'd at least like 10 or 12. Please?! :-) I'll give you a cyber cookie! Ok, maybe that's a little extreme...so...anyway...here's the third chapter! PLEASE R&R people...I'll love you forever! OH! I want to thank Lyza and caran427 for reviewing. I appreciate it!**

**Disclaimer:I'm not Stephanie Meyer. I don't own Twilight, or any of the characters, or blah blah blah blah. You get the point. **

I never would've thought that an eight year old could be so good at giving the cold shoulder.

For two weeks after her little incident, she refused to talk to me. She wouldn't let me take her to and from school. She ignored me when she came to Emily's with her family for Thanksgiving, and she even went so far as to hang around Jake and Renesmee all night saying how much I got on her nerves and how there was no way I could morph into a dog, because dogs were loyal, and I may be a lot of things, like a jerk and a squealer and a smelly swamp rat, but loyal? Nope. I'm not loyal.

Not me. Not the dude who's given the past six years of his life, the years that were supposed to be full of chasing skirts and stealing his grandpa's tribal pipe for experimental purposes, to a snot nosed little girl who's going through her terrible twos.

Not the dude who caught her before she crashed her bike or fell down the porch steps or that time she tried to be Mary Poppins and jump off the roof with an umbrella.

Not the guy who convinced her mom to let her get a cat from the shelter in Port Angeles for Christmas, who snuck her dessert before dinner and took the blame, who bought her that B.B. gun for her seventh birthday against her mother's wishes.

After we left Emily's, I went back to the house me and Embry and Jake share and threw a fit. Embry laughed at me the whole time, annoying me even more when he said he couldn't wait to see what her teen years would do to me.

I pitched the coffee pot at his face. He just deflected it with his massive hand and quick wolfey reflexes and kept on laughing.

* * *

On the fourteenth day of me going without my Claire, I decided enough was enough. The only solution I could come up with was bribery. She was too smart to fall for any of my tricks, and she was too stubborn to accept an apology, so I would just be obvious and buy back her affection.

My little tomboy would never be able to say no to an ATV. Yes, she was only eight years old, and yes, her mom would murder me, and no, I couldn't afford one.

But buy one, I would. I dragged Jake away from Ness, since anything with a motor in it was included in his area of expertise, and we took off to the little dealership in Port Angeles.

Five hours later I pulled into the Walker's driveway with an orange quad in the bed of my truck.

* * *

Why, why, WHY did I get her this contraption?! It's death on wheels! Every circle she makes around her house takes another year off of my life. Todd's laughing at me. Why is it that so many people find the need to laugh at me? And WHY did I feel the need to make up with Claire buy buying her the one thing that could possibly be as dangerous as what I told on her for? I'm an idiot. I. Am. An. IDIOT. Unbelievable, Quil. Unbe-freaking-lievable.

"At least you bought her a helmet, Quil."

I almost shot Todd with the imaginary gun of deadly laser beams that resides in my mind. Not as deadly as the glares that I was getting from Dena and Tallin, Claire's older sister, but deadly nonetheless. What's a helmet going to protect her from, for God's sake? A lot of good it would do if the thing flipped over on top of her. Or if it, oh, I don't know, exploded!

I'll have to steal it back tonight. I'd rather have a Claire who's pissed off at me forever than no Claire at all.

* * *

Stealing the vehicle of doom didn't go quite as I expected. Claire was supposed to be sleeping. Todd was supposed to leave the shed unlocked just like always. I was supposed to go into said shed and discreetly whisk away the quad to be used as spare parts for Jake's motorcycles.

But nothing can ever go like it's supposed to. Not when you're an extremely overgrown twenty one year old who can shapeshift, at least.

So here I am, sitting in Jake's garage, hooking up my prized stereo system to the railing on the back of the...thing.

"What happened?," you might be asking. Well...

Todd forgot to leave the shed unlocked, and desperate times call for desperate measures, so I broke the window to unlock the door.

Not smart.

Not at all.

Because lucky for me, Claire was awake. And she heard the glass shatter, and ran screaming out of the house to inquire as to what I was planning to do with 'Blaze.'

Great. She NAMED it.

So of course I had to make up some lie about me thinking how cool it would be to soup it up a little. And she asked for a stereo.

And, of course, Claire always gets what she wants from me, because she's my freaking imprint and I can't say no to her, even though she's so young she practically just started walking, and I'm not getting anything out of it except her happiness.

Yay me!

I suddenly started to hate Sam and Jared and Paul, because they didn't have to worry about raising their soul mate before they got to the fun age.

Whoa. I'm going to shut up. Right now. The thought of Claire getting to the fun age is disgusting. I mean, she hasn't even gone through puberty!

Eww. Okay. Now I'm really going to shut up.

So anyway, I have officially spent my entire life savings, half a year's salary, and my most prized possession trying to make Claire like me again, and all because of something SHE did wrong. Does anyone else see something severely wrong with this picture? Because I do.

Imprints. Gotta love 'em!

**Alright, guys! There you have it! Now...REVIEW!!! PLEASE?!!**


	4. Chapter 3

**A/N: So..here's chapter 3! I hope a lot of you guys can spare a few seconds and review. I really appreciate hearing what you guys have to say, and every bit of feedback you guys give me helps. So...PLEASE review! :-) I now present to you...chapter 3! Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I'm not Stephenie Meyer. Stop making me remind myself.**

I'm really starting to believe that I have a very serious case of lacking judgment, especially when it comes to buying things for Claire. Because right now, I feel as if I'm talking to a brick wall. A brick wall wearing headphones that are playing very loud music.

"Claire."

"..."

"Claire..."

"........."

"CLAIRE!"

"Geez, Quillian, you didn't have to yell. I heard you the first time!" she said, jerking the contraption off her head.

"Don't call me that...Delainey." Hopefully by using her first name she'd shut it.

Yeah, right.

"I'll call you whatever I want, Quillian Elijah Ateara." She stuck her tongue out at me, and I covered her face with my hand, gently shoving her head backwards.

"You're only twelve years old! Where did you get the notion that you can do whatever you want?"

"Embry."

"Figures." I suppose I should've seen that answer coming.

"So what do you want, anyways? You interrupted a very serious and important meeting between me and the Young brothers."

"Who?"

"AC/DC you numb-nuts."

"Oh."

"So..."

She was getting annoyed with me. It's always fun to watch her get annoyed.

"So what?"

"So what do you want?!"

"Oh. Just wanted to let you know we're doing the bonfire thing tomorrow night."

"Yeah. I know. We just talked about that like ten minutes ago."

"Oh. Okay. Claire?"

"What?!"

"Nothing."

She threw her music player at my face. I caught it, and she muttered something about finding a dead animal on the side of the road with rabies and injecting its infected blood into me. I really need to cut back on the time I allow her to spend with Embry. Her overabundance of intellect and his lack of common sense were most definitely not a good combination, especially considering that both of them are scheming, conniving pranksters who fear nothing.

"Nessie'll be there, right?"

"Yeah. She and Jake are here indefinitely for the summer."

"Good. I miss her." The intensity of the relationship between the two youngest wolf girls never ceased to surprise everyone. If there were ever any two people more opposite, I have yet to meet them. Claire was the yin to Ness's yang. Claire played softball religiously. The closest Nessie got to sports was when she went swimming with us at First Beach or watched her family play baseball. Ness loved shopping. Claire has stated on numerous occasions that she would rather shoot her foot off and eat it. Ness has always been very girly-well, as girly as one can be when they stalk animals and feast on their blood. Claire, as previously mentioned, is tough and gross and boyish. I love it, because I'm going to have it so much easier than Jake, with his constant shopping excursions and what not.

I guess they have the whole "I was imprinted on when I was a baby and I've known about the secret world of werewolves and vamps for, like, ever" thing going for them though, even though Claire doesn't exactly know about that first part just yet. She knows what imprinting is, just not that it happened to me with her, or whatever.

"Quil."

"What?"

"Nothing."

I had a feeling this would go on all afternoon.

* * *

The annual bonfire the pack had was always my favorite get-together thing we did. Other than Christmas, of course. But I guess I just like it 'cause it was exclusive. And because it lasted all night. This year was going to be especially good because I'd finally convinced Todd and Dena to let me keep Claire there the whole time.

I picked her up around six. I phased and she hopped up on my back, "assuming the position," as she'd jokingly called it after the first ride I took her on for her tenth birthday.

We got to the beach rather quickly. I think Claire's anticipation to see Ness was urging me on to get her there faster.

She flitted off my back as soon as we reached the line where the trees met the grayish sand, not even bothering to wait for me to kneel down to make it easier for her to climb off. I phased immediately, and before I could even get out of the woods I heard high-pitched girly screaming. I was almost surprised when I saw Embry dancing in a circle around them and imitating their squeals, but then I remembered that it was Embry.

"You'd think it's been a hundred years or something, huh Quil?"

"Hey, Jake. Long time, no mind reading."

"Har har."

"Stop trying to make jokes, Quil. You suck at it." Oh how sweet and loving my Claire is.

"Yeah, Quil. You suck at it."

"Shut up Embry."

"Yes, Claire."

And authoritative. Very authoritative.

Speaking of authoritative, pack leader Emily broke up our little powwow with two words that were on every wolf's favorite words list. "Food's up!"

Score.

* * *

No matter how many times I hear them, I'll never get tired of listening to Billy Black retell the legends of our ancestors. While he isn't as good as my grandfather, he does know a thing or two about creating this magical atmosphere that you can't escape from, not that you'd want to anyway.

It's hard to believe that I'm actually living these tales; that I'm a part of this. It's even better sitting back and watching as Claire plops down in front of Billy, cross legged and staring up at him as she pictures all this in her mind, her eyes shining the whole time and a look of serenity on her face.

I couldn't even listen to the story anymore as I though about Claire, the toddler who I'd watched grow into this amazing person. Smart. Athletic. Beautiful. Funny. Sarcastic. She fit in better than I did here. The niece of an elder, who just so happened to be the alpha of one of the packs here in La Push. A little sister to all the guys. My imprint. My best friend, first and foremost, though. She had dark green eyes with a starburst of hazelnut that exploded from the little black circles. Her hair had always been thick because she made her mom keep it right at her collar bone. She had the cutest nose I'd ever seen. Slightly upturned at the end, and perfectly proportional to her face. She wasn't scrawny; not in the slightest. I could tell she'd be thicker when she got older: sort of like her mom, but taller, I suppose. Not scrawny. Not after her rambunctious and softball-filled childhood. She had a strong personality, which was a rarity in the girls here, unless you were Leah or one of Jake's sisters.

I couldn't look away from her; couldn't get enough. Not in the sick, perverted way that one may assume because I'm twenty five and she's twelve. But in the kind of parent-like way, with more of a brotherly or best-friend-ish view.

I saw her yawn, and watched her lean on Ness as Billy finished. It was kind of hard to believe that Claire was older than Ness. She looked five or six years younger. But Ness nudged her away and they both got up and clambered to their sleeping bags like the two young girls they really were, never mind the fact that Nessie might as well be eighteen.

Me, Jake, Embry, Seth, Collin and Brady ended up playing three-on-three football a short ways down the beach from where everyone else was asleep. As dawn quietly broke on the horizon, we made our way back to the fire, picking on each other in hushed voices, eventually plopping down in various places to catch a couple hours of sleep.

**So...there was chapter 3! And the longest one so far, migth I add. Well, let me know what you think! PLEASE R&R!!!**

**~dg09**


	5. Chapter 4

**A/N. I realize that it has taken me 7 months to update. I had major writer's block. I apologize, and I have no plausible excuse. The updates will be coming more frequently now that I have some time off, so please stick with me! Again, I'm truly very sorry. For those of you waiting for a 'Guardian' update, no worries. I should have it up within the next week. Anyhoo, here's chapter 4! Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I'm not Stephenie Meyer. I do not own Twilight. **

A teenager. My little Claire-bear was now, as of today, officially a teenager. That's all I could think of as I was knocked out of my sleeping stupor after a fourteen hour patrol at what seemed like the crack of dawn. I heard a motor creeping up the gravel driveway that led to mine, Seth (who had taken Jake's vacated room after the Cullens moved), and Embry's house. I immediately recognized it as Blaze, the demonic four-wheeler that had shaved at least fifty years off of my life as it was frequently driven recklessly by my little Claire. I opened my eyes but quickly squinted them at the morning sun that was peeking through my window.

I listened carefully as little tennis shoe-clad feet plodded up the wooden steps of the porch. I heard the sneaky trespasser creak open the old door and slip her shoes off, then tiptoe down the hall to my room only to fling my door open, letting it bang against the wall.

"Quillian! WHAT are you DOING? You're still in bed?! On my BIRTHDAY?!"

"Well, Cee, it is sorta, like, six a.m. y'know?" I yawned loudly and heard Embry shout at me to shut up the half-pint. I let the insult pass for now, but I'd punch him in the throat for it later.

"SOO? It's my BIRTHday. And a super important one at that!"

"Why it so important, huh?" I could see her face scrunch up into frown as I played dumb.

"BeCAUSE, Quilly," she started, saying it as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I'm a WOMAN now."

If I wasn't awake before, then I definitely was after that little statement. She really knocked me for six. I mean, how do you respond to a statement like that, and made by your imprint no less? I'm pretty sure my heart skipped a beat as I thought of her being a woman, but quickly shook any feelings other than platonic brotherly friend-ish ones out of my freakish mind as she began to bounce up and down on top of me with her bottom lip stuck out.

"QUI-IL!" she whined. "Get UP!"

"Alright, little mama; if you insist."

"I DO insist." She grinned that toothy grin of hers and jerked the covers off of my body. I briefly thanked whoever was listening for allowing me plop into bed without taking my dirty shorts off, otherwise Claire may have been scarred for life. Well, maybe not for LIFE, but that was definitely something that I didn't want to have to answer to Claire's mom for just yet. Sam either.

"So," I said as I let her lead me into the small kitchen, "have any plans for today other than going to Em's?"

"Yep, but first you're gonna make me some breakfast."

"Wait. You said you were a woman, now. Aren't the women supposed to make breakfast for the men?"

She looked at me like I'd grown two heads. "I swear, Quil, you are SUCH a moron. It's the twenty-first century. Women are liberated now, you idiot! Besides, mom says that I'm still not allowed to use the oven. And even if I could, I can't cook anyways."

"Well, I can't cook, either, so that leaves us in quite the predicament then, doesn't it?"

"Not really. Seth drove up behind me in the truck this morning when I was on my way over here. He said he had to drop a part off in the shed and he'd be in in a little bit. We'll just make him cook."

"Make who cook?"

"Hey Seth!" She ran over to the party in question as he walked through the door.

"Hola, birthday girl! To what do I owe such a fine greeting on this rare sunny morning?"

"Will you make me breakfast? It IS my birthday, you know."

"Well, I guess if I HAVE to…" He was cut short as a barely conscious Embry stumbled into the room and slammed his foot against the door frame with a loud 'thump.'

"SHIT!" He hopped up and down on one foot for a second before falling to the floor, cradling his foot and rocking back and forth. Claire and Seth started laughing.

"Watch your mouth, Call. You've already been enough of a bad influence."

Embry squinted up at me before popping his big toe back into place with a shudder. "Aww, ickle-Quillykins is offended by the grown up talk," he said in a horrible British accent as he stumbled onto his feet. I just rolled my eyes at him.

"So wha'cha cooking, Clearwater?"

"Whatever Claire wants, I guess."

"CLAIRE! Oh my, our little Claire. I almost forgot she was here!" He rushed over and pulled her into a bear hug. Her face turned an awkward shade of red before I finally wrenched one of his arms out from around her back. "Hah-py bers-deh toh yoh!" Claire slammed her hand over his mouth before he could sing anymore to her in his strange German accent that slightly resembled the last sounds from a dying cow.

"I appreciate the thought, Embry." He smiled at her, and she grinned back at him with her mischievous little scrunched face that almost always made me jealous when she was giving it to someone besides me.

"Guess what? I know what Quil got you for your birthday!" Her eyes brightened a little bit, and I saw the curious glint in them that always meant that trouble was coming.

"Embry, shut up!"

"Now, Quil, that was NOT a very nice thing to say to Embry." She smirked at me and I could tell she was only saying it because she wanted something from him that I wasn't willing to let him give. I had worked really hard picking out this gift, and I refused to let the moronic Embry Call ruin everything.

"Now, Seth, how 'bout my birthday breakfast?"

* * *

"…Happy birthday dear Cla-aire. Happy Birthday to you!"

I cheered loudly as I watched Claire blow out the thirteen candles atop her triple chocolate birthday cake. Her smile widened significantly as she straightened, once again pushing away the pink Barbie tiara that Embry kept insisting she wear.

"Alright, Auntie Em. Hand me that there knife so we can get this show on the road!" Emily's eyes narrowed teasingly at the mention of her new nickname, recently acquired after the 'pack movie night,' at which it was discovered that Claire, the 'Wizard of Oz,' and excessive amounts of caffeine do not mix well.

Claire laughed, slicing a large piece of the cake for herself, and cutting what was left into four pieces as Rachel and Kim brought in two gigantic pans holding the dessert. "You guys need to back away from the table and quit hovering over the food. No one likes doggy drool icing," Rachel said, glaring at Paul, who immediately began pushing at the nearest bodies. Emily took the knife from her niece, and began to distribute the cake.

I got myself a plate, and headed toward the stairs I'd just seen Claire climb. I found her sitting on top of the pool table in the bonus room with Levi, Sam and Emily's four year old son, who was busy smearing chocolate icing all over Claire's face and his new jacket.

"It goes in your mouth, you little doofus!" she said with a laugh.

"Knock, knock!"

"Kil, Kil!" For some reason the little tyke couldn't say anything that any kind of a 'wuh' sound in it, so he improvised a bit. "Care gave me berfday cake!"

"I thought your momma said you couldn't have any after you planted your hot dogs in her garden?" I said, eyeing Claire suspiciously. She looked a bit guilty but immediately went into defense mode when Levi started to giggle.

"Well, it's MY birthday, and I refuse to allow anyone who wants cake to have to go without it."

"Sure. So I take it that that's what you'll tell Emily when she sees his clothes? And the pool table for that matter?" Her eyes widened as she looked around and I almost couldn't keep the smirk off of my face.

"Sam's gonna kill me, isn't he?" I felt a little knot form in my throat when I thought about the impending doom she may face, because her fault or not I still hated the idea of her being hurt in any way, regardless of whether or not it was my alpha doing the punishing. Then I realized what a freakin' pushover I was being, again, and didn't feel so bad.

"I don't know. At the very least I'm sure he'll maim you or something." Her brows knitted together and I lost it. I laughed so hard that I snorted a little, which caused Levi to giggle harder, but unfortunately for me not only attracted attention from downstairs, it also earned me an icy stare from my best friend. As Emily walked into the room to investigate what was going on, she stopped mid-step and glanced from Levi to Claire to me and back again.

"You know what?" she said, "I don't even wanna know." She turned and walked back out shaking her head.

Claire hopped up off the pool table and started stalking toward me. She was pretty intimidating for a thirteen year old. Poking her finger into my chest, she muttered, "That birthday present better be really awesome if you know what's good for you." And with that she went bouncing down the stairs.

After watching her descend I turned back to Levi, who was looking at me with a curious expression plastered on his chocolaty face. "What are you looking at Willy Wonka? Huh? Huh?" I said, picking him up and blowing a raspberry on his stomach. He squealed in delight and I suddenly wished that it was still that easy to make Claire laugh at me.

As I watched her open the gifts from everyone I realized how fast she was growing. I seemed to be doing this a lot lately, this whole reminiscing thing. I could feel some kind of shift happening, much like the one I had felt when I went from a father-figure to being her big brother, and then from being her brother to being her friend. I knew we were best friends, which was sort of awkward considering she was a thirteen year old girl and I was almost a twenty-five year old man, but I felt more protective over that girl than I assumed was normal for any kind of friendship, no matter how personal or deep. I was jolted out of my reverie when she suddenly popped up in front of me after having finished opening her things from everyone else.

"So, Quilly, where's this witchin' present that Embry said you had for me?"

"Claire!" Dena began. "That's rude, little lady. You don't ask people where their gift for you is." She looked mortified, almost apologetic, but Todd just laughed.

"I doubt she's more excited to get the gift than he is to give it, babe." Her face softened a bit as everyone laughed, taking in my painfully obvious excitement.

"Can I steal her for a few minutes? It's in my shed."

"When has it ever NOT been okay, kid?" I don't know why he insisted on calling me kid, but I guess it helped him cope with the fact that me and Claire were destined to be…something. Not that she wouldn't have a choice, but I mean, it isn't hard to see what happens after a wolf imprints, especially when you look around the Uley household at all the others. At least, I was doing some serious finger crossing that that would be the case for the two of us. But I'm sort of getting a few too many steps ahead considering that didn't matter just yet.

I just smiled at him as I let Claire pull me out the door.

* * *

"Quillian, this isn't gonna be like one of those stupid horror movies where the big scary werewolf lures the poor defenseless girl out into the woods away from her family and then eats her, is it? Because I would kind of like to live to see tonight's rerun of 'Jeopardy.'"

"Ha, ha, Delainey. Very cute. Now just close your eyes," I said as we got to the door of the shed, the place where I usually kept all of my spare car parts instead of the object that it did now; one which I had deemed to be much more special.

"I knew it! I knew you had a hidden agenda! This was just your plot to get me alone and then pop me off!"

"Alright, Claire. You got me," I growled, lunging at her. She hated it when I did that.

"FINE! You win. I'll close my eyes." She plastered her hands over her face and I made some funny faces at her just to make sure she wasn't peeking. I hit the buttons on the keyless entry and pushed the sliding metal door open, flicking the lights on as I went in.

"Okay, bear, you can look." She practically threw her hands off her eyes, and as the thought of what I was giving her sank in, her face went from happiness to off-the-chart-elation.

"Quil! It's a… it's a car!" She ran over to it, running her hands from the hood to the windshield wipers, then along the doors and to the back bumper of the thirty-fifth anniversary edition Mustang that I'd managed to talk the junk yard guy over in Forks into selling to me. He'd wanted to sell it for parts to make more money but I'd thrown my last name around and he finally let me have it- for way more than it was worth, might I add.

"I know it isn't much right now, but I figured since you have three years until you can legally drive it, we can kind of make it our little project. Unless, of course, you just want me to do it. I know most girls aren't into that kinda thing but-." I didn't even get to finish my ridiculous reasoning before she'd ran up to me and flung her arms around my neck.

"I love it, Quilly! It's perfect!" She hopped out of my arms and started jumping around excitedly, rattling off things we could modify and add on to it. "We could get a cool muffler, paint it an awesome neon color, and we could add chrome and decals! This is gonna be AWEsome Quil!" I just crossed my arms and smiled with the knowledge that if I knew Claire, we'd better start with the engine first and then work our way around. That girl would change her mind about the appearance of the car twenty times before we could actually have it up and running.

"And Quil?"

"Yeah, peanut?"

"You're pretty much the awesomest best friend a girl could ask for."

I felt my heart swell and thrum contentedly in my chest.

**There you have it! And remember, your reviews inspire me to write faster, so please R&R! I also really appreciate hearing from you guys. It's nice to know what you like and what you don't, as well as what you think I could do to improve, etc. Thanks again! :-)**

**~darkgoddess**


	6. Chapter 5

**A/N: So i know i suck at updating. But...college is INSANE. I'm adjusting. I'm working on the sixth chapter though, and it should be posted within the next couple of days. I'm gonna try to get a bunch of writing in over Thanksgiving break. Thank you guys so much for sticking it out with me. I really appreciate it. Oh, and how about New Moon?! That was the absolute hottest 2 hours of my life. Mmmm...Jacob Black is SEXY. Ok. So. R&R. please? :-]]**

**Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own Twilight. **

"So I asked Coach Davis about those parts you were looking for. He said that he had the cylinder heads that you wanted but that you'd probably have to order the valve caps online or something. He said the showroom in Seattle would definitely have them for cheaper, but I don't really want you to have to drive to Seattle for that." Claire walked languidly into my shed-turned-garage, slinging her bat bag into the corner with a loud clank, cleats tapping against the concrete slab as she came over to crouch next to where I was making a repair on the frame of the car.

When she speaks car it really drives me insane. I really think she knows, and that she does it on purpose to see me squirm.

"Hey Claire. How'd you get here? I thought your mom had to work."

"She did. I walked. I needed to cool down from practice, and I figured I'd come here."

"Claire, how many times do I have to tell you-"

"That it isn't safe to walk here by myself. I know, MOTHER." She scrunched her face up at me and then smiled. "Which is why Paul dropped me off at the top of your driveway on his way home from work."

I just shook my head and glared at her.

" So how was practice?" I looked up at her with a smile as she huffed.

"It was horrendous. First Holly freaking Tanner shows up ten minutes late and we had to do suicides. On the baseball field! So my hands are, like, raw right now. And then Davis decides that our batting averages aren't high enough, so he called a mandatory batting practice right after our normal practice to 'get ready for next weekend's game'. Forget that we're only playing the kids up in Neah Bay, who suck anyway. Forget that some people have homework and scholarship papers to fill out. Forget that some of us are on the Student Council and have meetings with the school board to attend at 6 in the morning about pointless school policies that need revision. Forget that I'm seventeen and have a car that still isn't finished because nothing will fall into place with it or work or anything. Forget that I never get to see my best friend because of some ridiculous vampire influx." She glared at me after that last sentence.

"Which by the way," she continued, "I saw Aunt Rachel at school in the office today, something to do with Addy, and she said the darndest thing. She said that you didn't HAVE patrol yesterday, or the day before that, for that matter. Are you avoiding me because of my hormones or something? I mean, I'm just on my period, for God sakes. It isn't like I'm diseased. It isn't like I haven't been having one for the past three years." I'm pretty sure that my face turned a violent shade of red. Thank heaven that I'm uber tan.

"Uh-I…I mean…"

"Save it, Quil. I'll leave. I just came by to tell you what Davis said, anyway. I won't stick around and have my vagina gas assault your muzzle."

"Claire!"

"What?"

"Do you HAVE to be so vulgar?!"

"Do YOU have to be such a prudish liar?" She was up in my face now, hovering over me. She was so close I could see the sweat and dirt that had gathered on her hairline and the faint mark on her forehead where her baseball cap had been.

We've been fighting a lot lately. Granted she's a teenager, and teenagers are hormonal, but I was worried that maybe this wasn't normal. I mean, she's my imprint. I'm supposed to want her to be happy all the time, right? I'm feeling a lot different about her. I'm not really sure in what way, but my gut is telling me something and I don't really know what. Maybe I should talk to Sam. Or maybe Jared. Yeah. I'll talk to Jared. He was a softie. Well, Kim was a softie. She'd make him help me.

"You know, sometimes you make me really angry, Quil. I mean, I know I'm a lot younger than you, and I know that I don't need to know where you are all the time or even have the right, but I'd rather you just not tell me what you're doing than lie to me. Okay?" My heart started to burn a little bit at the angry expression on her face.

"Yeah. I'm sorry, Claire." Crap.

We sat looking at each other in silence. That's when it happened. I look at her and it's almost like the first time I saw her. Not as intense, but it was still pretty powerful. All I could do was stare at her as she brushed a chunk of hair that had fallen out of the ponytail she had to all but glue up because of how short her hair was and moved to sit Indian style on the floor beside the front left tire, pulling her cleats off and peeling her socks from her calves.

She was seventeen. She was older now than I was when I first phased.

And she was beautiful.

I have no idea how this had escaped my attention. I was a moron. Claire was BEAUTIFUL. And I was in love…

Wait.

What?

I was IN LOVE with her?

No.

I was NOT in love with Claire, who was only seventeen.

I was, well, I was OLD. A lot older than she was, at least. It wouldn't be appropriate.

"Quil? Are you evening listening to me?" She had been talking to me. Oh.

"Huh? Oh. Yeah, bear." Again, crap.

"And you're okay with this? I mean, you're not gonna go into overprotective brother-slash-best friend mode? Or pull a Sam , or worse pull a mom and stalk me?" What was she talking about?

"Um, no?"

"Quil, you're the BEST!" she said as she lunged at me, wrapping her arms around my neck. This was…nice. Nicer than it should've been. Why didn't I hug her more often?

Just as I went to wrap my arms around her she pulled back, holding me at an arm's length.

"You have NO idea how much this means to me. I mean, I've never really wanted to date before, but I figure it's all part of the great and wondrous high school experience, and Chris is really intelligent and it seems like he likes me a lot."

WHAT?!

"WHAT?! Chris?! Who is Chris?!"

"I thought you said you were listening to me, Quil!"

Who the hell was this Chris? And who the hell did he think he was taking MY Claire out on a date?! She was MY imprint, damn it!

"Quil?!"

"Claire, you can NOT go out with him. You can't!" A sense of desperation that I knew was irrational was slowly choking the breath out of me. I mean, rationally, the kid was like, fourteen or whatever. He had nothing on me. I mean, I'm sexy, and I know it. But that rational-ness couldn't overpower this natural instinct of self-preservation— a self-preservation that involved me keeping MY Claire all to myself.

"But you just said-"

"I don't CARE what I just said. You can't just go out with some boy, Claire. You can't. Do you have any idea what that would do to me?!" Oops.

"What it would do to YOU?! What are you even talking about?! And WHY can't I go with him?! Huh?! Who are you, my father?!"

"NO. I'm NOT your FATHER, but you ARE my imprint! You can't just go behind my back and—oh shit."

Had I really just said that? Please somebody tell me I didn't just say that!

But apparently I had. I couldn't think of another reason for Claire to be slack-jawed and have eyes looking at me as big as the softballs we used to practice her pitching with every weekend.

All I could do was stand there looking like a complete dumbass. I felt like my eyes were screaming at her to accept me, to accept this, to not be mad, to understand, even though I'm not really sure WHAT I was asking her to accept or understand, or even why. Curse my girlish emotions! And curse my angry fit of gargantuan stupidity.

It was a good two minutes before her face fell.

"How COULD you?!"

"Claire, you know that stuff can't be helped. You know-"

"No. How could you keep that from me, Quil? How could you not tell me? That's…I…" She let out a single sob and then quickly regained composure. I felt like I was gonna cry. What had I done? She wasn't even supposed to find out yet. I don't really know when she WAS supposed to find out, but now obviously wasn't the best time.

"You…you LIAR. How could you lie to me like that?!"

Okay, mind. I know you're there. Please work. Please come up with something intelligent to say. I beg you.

"Technically, I never lied to you! I never once said 'Claire, I did NOT imprint on you.' I never lied to you."

THAT was the best my moronic brain could come up with?! Geez.

I saw the incredulous look on her face and immediately tried to backpedal. "I mean, it was still dishonest of me, so you're right. You're SO right, Claire. I'm a liar. I deserve-"

"Save it, Quil. Just…save it."

"What does that mean, Claire?"

"It means that I'm leaving. THAT'S what it means."

"Claire, please don't go. You're my best friend. I didn't mean-"

"No, Quil. You're MY best friend. I tell you EVERYTHING. Even when I know I shouldn't, or when I think it's stupid, and even when I'm not supposed to. I tell you everything. If I was really you're best friend, you would've told me that you had imprinted on me, and a LONG time ago at that. How old was I, anyway?! Like, two?! I've known you my whole freaking life! Oh my God. My WHOLE LIFE! And you NEVER told me. Never."

"Claire," I tried as she stomped around gathering her things. "Claire, please. You ARE my best friend. You ARE."

"Quil, the disgusting thing to me is that you wouldn't have even told me if you hadn't been pissed off. It was a slip. A giant Freudian slip. A…a mistake! When were you planning on telling me, huh?! Were you EVER going to tell me?!"

"Claire, I-"

"And I should have freaking KNOWN, too! I'm smarter than that! I should've known!" She slung her bat bag over her shoulder and stomped out of the building barefoot.

"I always wondered why you were able to tell me all your secrets. Why no one else but imprints and the council knew. Why you would spend all your time with an annoying prepubescent girl." She was practically spitting out her words at me over her shoulder. I grabbed at the shoulder strap of her bag to try to get her to look at me, but THAT was a mistake, too.

She whipped around at a speed that made me scared for the condition of her neck.

"Don't you touch me, Quillian Ateara. Don't you DARE touch me." She poked me in the chest with her finger in a way that I guess she thought was hard and glared at me through teary eyes. Oh God. I screwed up. I screwed up big.

"And don't come see me. I don't wanna see you. I don't wanna talk to you. I don't want you to send other people to talk to me FOR you. Don't call. Don't text. Don't…don't ANYTHING. I can't believe this. I can't believe you. All this time, all this time and it's all because of what? Why couldn't you have told me?!"

"Claire, I wanted you to have at least some kind of normal life." I realized how jacked up this statement was, considering she'd just wanted to go on a normal date with a normal guy, and then my stupid mouth and my stupid anger happened. I suddenly felt a very strong, primal urge to phase.

"Normal life? NORMAL?! My best friends are werewolves who hunt and destroy VAMPIRES! How normal could my life EVER be?"

"I'm sorry! I was doing what I thought was best. I-"

"I don't even care. I don't wanna talk to you. I don't wanna hear what you have to even say. I…I hate you. Maybe there will come a time when I don't hate you. But right now, I HATE you, Ateara. I HATE you."

And with that she tore off down the gravel road in a sprint.

"CLAIRE!" I screamed after her. Before I could even think about going after her, before I could even rip my clothes off, I phased. The wolf was in anguish, and I couldn't contain it. Fifteen years of phasing and Claire's anger towards me had me acting like a newbie.

My heart was racing as I ran after her, following just behind her in the cover of the woods. It was only about two miles before she stopped. I could hear her gasping for breath through her tears and my heart broke. I had done this to her.

My mind raced with a hundred different scenarios and "what ifs" as she calmed down and walked towards Sam and Emily's house.

I was gonna get it.

Big time.

**Uh-oh! Quil's in TROU-BLE...stay tuned! And let me know what you guys think! R&R!**

**~darkgoddess **


	7. Chapter 6

**A/N: Hope everyone has had a great new year so far! Well, this is one of the longest chapters I've ever written. Enjoy! And please remember to R&R!**

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Claire never did tell Sam or Emily what was wrong. She hadn't told her mom or Tallin or her best girl friend Cheyenne. She hadn't even told Nessie, and she told Nessie everything.

Leah had been a wolf when I'd furploded after Claire left my house in tears, so naturally everyone in the pack knew what had happened, knew about my word vomit, excluding Sam, Jared, and Paul, the retirees, of course.

I managed to find out through the grapevine that Claire never went on her date with Chris. Tallin had been home from the University of Washington for a long weekend and had offered to help Claire pick out something to wear because Claire had called her excitedly the week before and told her about this boy she thought she liked. When Claire told Tallin she'd cancelled on him, Tallin told her mom, who told Emily, who told Leah. Brady heard it through the pack mind link with Leah and told Seth, who he was pretty tight with, and Seth rushed back to our house to tell me, seemingly hopeful that maybe there was some kind of meaning behind it.

It had been months since I'd really talked to her. She was cordial at pack functions. Her family had no idea what had happened, though I'm sure they knew something was off considering I wasn't always at their house anymore eating their food, helping Claire with homework, watching cartoons with her little brother Fyn, doing odd jobs for her mom and asking Todd all kinds of questions about law, something I'd become pretty interested in over the years. Claire tried not to let on that anything was wrong. I hoped nothing was. I hoped with everything that I was that she didn't feel the sharp pain in her stomach and the throbbing in her head that had become my constant companions. It hurt to be away from her, for her to be so livid at me. It hurt bad, so bad that sometimes it was hard to breath. And it was only going to get worse.

The Christmas after she turned eighteen ( her first birthday since I imprinted on her that I hadn't been with her or taken her on our ritual "wolf-back" ride, might I add) everyone was gathered at the Uley house. All of the wolves, both retired and active, and their imprints or girlfriends and all their kids were there. It was mass chaos from the time the first person arrived, and it would stay that way until everyone was gone.

I was one of the first people to get there. Emily had recruited some of us to come help her set up the tables and the decorations and what not. The Walker family was there early too, since Dena always helped Emily cook. Claire hadn't come, though. When Todd saw me looking for her, he smiled sympathetically.

"She'll be here later, Quil. She hasn't been feeling so great lately. We let her sleep in."

"Oh. Okay. I guess I'll catch up with her when she comes, then." Feeling the overwhelming urge to phase and run to Claire and beg her to forgive me, I turned to walk outside, but Todd called out to me before I made it to the door.

"Quil, I don't know what's going on. Quite frankly, I don't want to know. But what I do know is that my little girl hasn't spoken about you at all in months. Since you're all she's talked about since she was two, you can imagine how extremely weird that is to me." He walked over to me and reached up to place a hand on my shoulder. "I know it must be harder for you than anyone else to see Claire upset, all things considered, but she feels whatever connection you guys have, too, Quil. Just don't forget that."

"Yes, sir." If I thought I couldn't feel anymore horrible before, I now knew that I was wrong. I felt even worse now after Todd's little lecture. He turned to go back into the kitchen, but stopped short and tilted his head back towards me.

"And Quil?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't think that I won't come after you if I find out you've done something to her."

Even though I was bigger, and slightly younger, and a lot stronger than him, I knew Todd's threats weren't empty. And to be honest, they scared the hell out of me.

About an hour or so later I heard the door open and felt the familiar tug in the pit of my stomach. I looked over and saw Claire. If I hadn't been looking for it, or maybe if I hadn't been so in tune with her, I would never have known the discomfort she was in. I let my eyes drift from her now longer, curled hair. I barely had time to register how beautiful she looked in her bright red tee-shirt dress and black leggings before my eyes settles on her pearl necklace, the one that had been my grandmother's, the one I'd given her for her sixteenth birthday. For the first time since our fight, I let hope settle into my chest. Maybe I could take this as a sign that she was getting over her anger at me.

I smiled at her, the first real smile I'd had in awhile, but she just kind of drew her lips into a tight line and asked Jacob, who was sitting beside me, where Renesmee was. My heart dropped. So much for her not being mad at me anymore. I saw a couple of the others in the living room look between the two of us a couple times, clearly confused, but I didn't care. I didn't care what they knew or what they thought they knew or their opinion on it. All I could think about was that my Claire was mad at me, and this time it was legit. It wasn't like those times when she was younger and I did something or said something stupid and she got a little miffed for a day but then got over it. This was colossal. I was positive that this was the worst thing that had ever happened or that could ever happen. My world, no, my sun, no longer wanted anything to do with me. She had stopped shining for me. I was a man in total darkness.

I managed to eat enough food to keep Emily off my back, and made it through the Secret Santa gift exchanges without any pitying looks. I watched as Claire subtly picked up the gift I'd gotten her and put it in one of Tallin's already-opened bags, and I felt as though she'd stabbed me in the throat. I realized that I'd be doing good if I made it through the day without crying like a baby at her rejection.

When all the gifts were unwrapped, I thought about making up some kind of excuse to leave early before we had dessert and eggnog, but decided that I'd make the most of Claire's presence near me as long as I could.

As soon as Emily began passing around the steaming liquid and plates of cookies and cake, Claire stood up, and a horrible, horrible feeling overcame me.

"Excuse me, everyone." She sounded formal. Very quiet. Very NOT Claire. "Umm, if I could have your attention for just a sec, I have an announcement to make."

My mind was racing. What could it be? Was she sick? Was she engaged? Was she…pregnant? Was she in financial trouble? Was she dropping out of school? Was she-"

"I sent tapes of some of my softball games and training sessions to a few schools about a month or so ago, and I got a reply back from Georgia Tech."

"Oh, Claire, honey, that's great!" Emily said. "What did they tell you?!"

"Well, the people in the athletic department said they had to clear it with undergraduate admissions, but they think with my athletic record and my grades that I could get a full scholarship. They want me to come catch for them." She was beaming by now and Jake and Embry were up doing some kind of weird victory dance around her, whooping and carrying on and making a big fuss.

I was too shell-shocked to move.

"What do ya think about our girl, Quilly?!" Embry screamed at me. All I could do was open and close my mouth like a stupid fish. I looked like an idiot.

"Well, Quil?" This time, it was Claire asking me. She looked hopeful, so maybe she was looking for my approval. It was more than I would ever dare to ask for.

Great. The first time in months she's directed any kind of words toward me at all and I can't come up with an intelligent response.

"Quil?" she said again.

"It's…umm…Georgia? But that's in…Georgia?" I tried to mentally calculate how far it was from here to Georgia, and whether or not I could run there in less than two hours to patrol around her room like I've been doing ever since I met her.

"Yeah. It's in Georgia, Quil," she replied with a bite to her tone.

Everyone was watching our exchange, but I couldn't look anywhere but her eyes-her beautiful, currently smoldering eyes that appeared to be challenging me, daring me to say something, anything, that would go against her going that far.

I slumped in defeat, mumbling 'Georgia.' I stood and went over to her. As I pulled her in for a hug, I felt her stiffen, but I went ahead and kissed her on the forehead, anyway. If she was going to go to Georgia, to the other side of the continent, then she could give me this. "Congrats, Claire-bear," I whispered, and at that moment I knew I couldn't take anymore. I left the house without another word and without looking behind me.

I decided not to phase. I didn't feel like ripping my good clothes or taking the time to tie them to my leg, so I just started walking towards the beach. It was too cold for normal people to be out, so it would be quiet there. I would be able to clear my head. I would be able to brace myself for letting my Claire go all the way across the country without me.

I hadn't gotten far before I heard someone running towards me.

"Quil!"

I whipped around at the all-too-familiar voice.

"Claire?"

"Quil!" She was running full force at me.

"Claire, where's your jacket? It's freezing out here!" I yelled to her.

I stood rooted to the spot as she barreled toward me. I waited for her to stop but she didn't. She slammed into me, throwing her arms around my neck , sobbing.

"Claire? Claire, what's wrong?!" I went from being dismal to frantic immediately. Claire never cried. Never.

I gathered her up in my arms and let her cry, rocking her back and forth as she held on tight to me.

"I've *hiccup* missed *hiccup* you!" She sniffled and I could feel tears and snot pooling on my shoulder where her head rested, though I couldn't have cared less at this point.

"I missed you too, Claire-bear. I'm such an idiot."

She laughed a little, drawing in a shaky breath. "I know."

"I'm so sorry. I was too much of a coward to tell you before, I guess. I just wanted you to have a normal life. I wanted you to go out with your friends and date and stuff, but I ruined it anyway. A whole sixteen years worth of effort down the toilet in sixteen seconds." I shook my head and she nuzzled her nose into my neck.

"I'm still mad at you, Quil. I'm still SO disappointed in you for not telling me. But you've been my best friend for so long and-"

"Claire, you don't have to-"

"Let me finish. You've been my best friend for SO long, Quil. I wasn't gonna leave here with things how they are. You've been a part of my life for as long as I can remember and you've always been there for me even when you probably had better things to do. I love you, Quilly, even when you piss me off so bad I can't even think straight. So I'm forgiving you. This is the only get-out-of-jail-free card you're ever gonna get, so don't mess it up, 'kay?"

"Claire-"

"Okay?!"

"Okay, Claire. I got it."

"Good."

As I stood there embracing her in the middle of the deserted road, I felt myself coming back to life. No more stabs or jabs or aches or pains anywhere. Claire had forgiven me.

"So, what'd you get me for Christmas?"

I laughed. "Well, maybe if you'd have opened it-" I stopped when I saw her glaring at me.

"Fine, fine. C'mon. I have a spare one at my house."

"What? You have a spare Christmas present?" She looked up at me, confusion spreading across her face as she let go of me and wiped the trails of salt water and the smeared make-up off of her face.

"Yup."

"Well, that's not weird. I have something for you too, y'know."

"I didn't know people got gifts for people they hated."

She smiled my favorite crooked, mischievous smile and said, "Well, USUALLY they don't, but I had to make an exception."

"Well, what is it?"

"Close your eyes and hold out your hand."

"But you don't have any pockets-"

"Shut up, Quil, and do what I asked!"

"Okay, bossy."

She laughed. I closed my eyes and placed my hand palm-up in front of her. She placed it in my hand and I closed my fingers around it, feeling something thin and leathery.

"Okay. Open your eyes."

I looked down to see what she had given me and I felt like I was gonna throw up from sheer happiness. In my hand laid a wooden wolf charm attached to a leather necklace. The carving was almost identical to the ones all of the other wolves had given to their imprints.

"Claire, what-"

"Look, before you say anything, I know you're supposed to be giving me one of these eventually, but I thought I'd mix it up a bit. I'm not trying to imply anything by this, at least not for now, but I thought it would be more suitable for me to give this to you instead of vice versa. It just seemed right."

I didn't even know what to say. This was obviously an olive branch-both a peace treaty and a recognition of the magic that existed between us. "Claire, I-"

"Ah, Quil, I'm sorry. I knew it was stupid. Imprints don't give these to wolves. You can't even wear it all the time. I didn't even think about that! I'm-"

"Claire-"

"-sorry. Really. It isn't even that good. We both know-"

"Claire-"

"-how bad I suck at crafty things, but I just thought-"

"Claire!"

"What?"

"I love it. It's beautiful. In fact, it may be the best Christmas present I've ever gotten."

"Really?"

"Really, really."

She smiled again, and I thanked whatever deity was listening for giving her that simple yet fascinating facial expression.

"I hope it fits, then. I tried to cut the strap longer 'cause I know what a meat-head you are."

"Gee, thanks! I love you too, Claire."

She blushed.

Wait. She BLUSHED. I've never seen her blush before!

It was captivating.

She recovered quickly, though, much to my misfortune. "Soooo, how about MY present?"

I laughed and grabbed her hand with a squeeze. "C'mon, peanut."

We walked in silence back to my house, our arms swinging between us the whole way there.

"Wait out here."

"Okay. But don't keep me waiting. I'm very impatient."

"I know." I ran into the house and rummaged through a couple of drawers in the kitchen before I found them in a small basket next to Embry's cigarettes. As soon as I had them in my hand I ran out the door and straight past Claire, yelling out at her to follow me.

As soon as I reached the shed I turned around to face her.

"Quil, you're ridiculous, " she said smirking.

"You may not think that when you see your present. Now close your eyes."

"Why do I feel like we've been in this same situation before?"

"Because we have. Now close your eyes, woman!"

"Fine, fine." When her eyes were shut I turned and pressed the code in for the shed, sliding open the door as I had many times over the past few months, having nothing else to do but mourn over Claire while overhauling her once (but no longer) rust bucket of a car. "You're not giving me another clunker, are you?" she laughed.

"Not unless you call this baby a clunker. Open your eyes, sweets." I tossed the keys to her as she peered into the dark garage.

"You didn't."

"I didn't what?" I said, flipping the switches to all the lights.

"Quil, no you freaking didn't! Oh my God! No way!" She was jumping up and down just outside the shed.

"Well, are you gonna come check out the fruits of my hard labor or are you just gonna stand there squealing?"

"Quil! You are OFFICIALLY out of the dog house. Oh my GOD! And it's black, too!" Now she ran towards it, much like she had when she was thirteen, running her hands over the sleek exterior.

"And it's chromed! QUIL! How did you afford all of this?! I'm gonna go bankrupt trying to pay you back!"

"Don't worry about it. Think of it as your birthday present for the next, oh, ten years," I said, knowing good and well that I would still be getting her gifts for every holiday that came up.

"Can I drive it?!"

"It's yours. I don't see why not."

"Hey Quil?!"

"Yeah?"

"I freaking love you."

I couldn't even say anything back for smiling as she hopped in the driver's seat. I lingered behind, ready to let her take it off by herself, but before she cranked it she motioned for me to get in.

As soon as I shut the door, she turned the key in the ignition and squealed when the motor roared to life. "A V8, Quil? Seriously?!"

"Seriously."

She squealed again and slowly pulled out of the garage, creeping down the gravel driveway at a snail's pace.

"Why don't you open it up, Claire-bear? I've only driven it once to make sure it ran alright. Let's see what this baby can do."

"As you wish, Quilly."

And with that, she pushed the gas pedal to the floor and we headed towards the 101.

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**Hope you guys enjoyed it! R&R!**

**~darkgoddess**


	8. Chapter 7

**A/N: This chapter kind of just flew out of me! Once I got the idea, I ran with it and then I couldn't stop. It's probably the saddest chapter that's in this story, but you should like the ending. So with that, I'll remind you to please read and review! And without further adieu, the seventh (but definitely not the final one, for those of you who've been asking) chapter of AFKOL...**

**Disclaimer: I ain't Stephanie Meyer. lah-dee-freakin'-dah. :-]]**

I lay stretched out on the small reclining couch next to my grandfather in Forks General, feeling more miserable than I could ever recall being. I stared at the sleeping man, trying to remember as many details about him that I could. The weeklong fishing trip he took me on after my mom, his daughter-in-law, left the rez, abandoning me and my dad. The countless summer nights of sitting under the stars as he told me stories about our people. Him guiding me through my many trials in life as I went from being a kid to a teenager to a shape-shifter and finally to a man. I'll never forget the proud look in his eyes the day that I phased for the first time. And I'll never forget how he helped me win over Claire's family, ensuring that they remained near La Push so that he wouldn't have to see me miserable.

Claire, my best friend. Claire, the girl, no, not the girl, the twenty-year-old woman I hadn't seen in months, since her last few days of summer vacation before she had to depart for Georgia once more, heading into her third year of college.

I needed her now, probably more than ever. The man who had practically raised me from the time I was eight years old was slipping away before my very eyes. He was old, VERY old, pushing ninety-five, and I knew it would only be a matter of time. I was surprised he'd lasted this long. But even though I knew it was coming, even though I'd been attempting to prepare myself for his passing, I still felt like I was about to lose a huge part of me, probably the most important part aside from my Claire-bear.

I sat up and put my head in my hands, balancing my elbows on my knees. I felt my dad put a reassuring hand on my shoulder, and I looked up at his aging face.

He wasn't too young, either. He'd been a lot older than my mom when they'd gotten married and had me. But then again I wasn't exactly a teenager anymore, no matter how much I felt or looked like one. I had turned thirty-three this year. I was officially a middle-aged man.

"Son?"

"Yeah, dad?"

"The doctor asked us to leave the room for a few minutes. They need to take care of some things with your grandpa's medication and stuff."

"Oh. Okay."

I stood slowly, took a long glance back towards the hospital bed and all the beeping monitors attached to the man in it, then walked hesitantly out the door behind my father.

When we got to the waiting room, I was a little surprised to see all of my pack brothers there. I suppose I shouldn't have been. They were my family, all an extension of myself in numerous ways. Plus, my grandfather had been a tribal elder for as long as probably any of us could remember. It was not only tradition but a sign of respect that they were here.

Embry stood from the space he'd been occupying on a small couch next to his imprint Layla. She was about Claire's age and she'd come to La Push from the University of Washington for an assignment on indigenous cultures in her anthropology class. Her car had broken down, she'd taken it to the garage where Embry was on duty, and bam. She was nice, kind of quiet, but the two of them fit together well. And Claire liked her, which was all that really mattered to me.

He walked over, giving me a sympathetic yet still manly half-hug, patting me on the back and pulling me to a chair near Billy Black, Sam, and Sam's oldest kid Levi.

That's where I sat for the next hour, not really noticing all the people coming and going out of the small waiting room, expressing their sympathies to me and my dad. I wandered back into where my grandpa was after the doctors had finished their business. He was awake now, still looking pretty bad, but he was smiling at me, and he asked me to shut the door.

"When Claire gets here, can you send her in? I need to speak to her." Well, that was unexpected.

"Umm, pop, Claire's on the other side of the country right now. She won't be able to come. But I can talk to her for you. Or Emily or Billy can. What-"

"She'll be here, son." He chuckled, but it turned into a hacking cough which made me cringe a little.

"Whatever you say, pop." I shook my head, knowing full well that Claire didn't have the funds for a round trip ticket to Sea-Tac, then the connection flight to Port Angeles, THEN the several-hours-long taxi ride to La Push.

"Ye of little faith. That girl loves you, son. If you don't do something about it, I'm afraid she may start to rethink it and never come back," he said, smirking at me.

"We're just friends, pop. And that really isn't important right now. What's important is you not worrying about anything, especially my lack of a love life, and getting some rest so you can get your strength back."

"Quillian, my strength is never coming back. I know it. I've accepted it. Don't deny an old man the pleasure of teasing his favorite grandson while he still can."

I laughed. "I'm your ONLY grandson."

"And I'm very proud of you." I looked up at him, our conversation suddenly turning more serious.

"Come here, Quil." I slid the chair to the middle of the room so that it was right next to his bed. He held out his hand for me, which I grasped as gently as I could, knowing how fragile he was, now more than ever.

"I'm very proud of you, son. You've become a great man. A man that people can look up to and put their confidence in. I don't want you to forget that." I could see tears forming in his eyes. I'd only seen him cry one other time, and that was when they laid my grandmother to rest when I was six. "Take care of your father for me. He never had too much common sense." I laughed a little at that. "And you'll be a wonderful father some day. I just wish I could be there to see it."

Before I could reply I heard a quiet knock on the door. I knew immediately who it was. My whole being shifted towards that door, and I met my grandfather's amused eyes as I abruptly stood up and made my way over to the door, listening to him mutter "told you so" under his shallow breath.

When I turned the silver handle and pulled open the heavy wooden door, the beautiful sight that greeted me made me feel more relief than I had in weeks.

"Hey," Claire breathed out softly, wrapping me into a tight hug and then pulling back quickly, leaving her hands resting on my sides. I guess she saw my puzzled look because before I could say anything she said, "Emily called two days ago. I got on a red eye."

I took in her appearance, still not able to form a sentence in her direction since being caught of guard upon seeing her. She looked exhausted but she was trying to hide it. And again, before I could say so much as a "hi, yourself" to her, she jumped in, probably taking my silence to mean something else.

"Sorry to interrupt. I can come back if-"

"No, Claire!" pop called from the bed. "You're just the person I wanted to see."

"Oh! Well, umm, if you're sure-"

"He's sure, bear," I said to her.

She smiled at me and I could practically hear my grandfather's eyebrow raising up behind me and the half-smile that was on his face.

"So it talks," she looked up at me, smiling.

I stepped back so she could come in. She took the seat next to my grandfather, who once again asked me to shut the door. As I came to stand at the foot of the bed, she pulled a grocery bag out of her purse and smiled at him.

"I brought you somethin', pops. I remembered how nasty the food here was from when I got my appendix taken out. You snuck these to me, remember?" She pulled out a large bag white bag that smelled like the chili cheese fries from the diner across the street, and pop laughed.

"Yes, Claire. I remember very well. I don't think there was ever a time when Quil had been more hysterical." It was Claire's turn to laugh. She looked at me, and even though she was smiling I could still see the sadness in her eyes.

"Well, consider this as me returning the favor." She grabbed the tray his dinner had been on earlier and unwrapped the heavenly gooeyness. "I hope you'll be able to eat 'em. I told Freddie to go light on the toppings and salt." I guess she saw the way I was eyeing them, my stomach ready to be filled no matter what the situation, and she produced another white bag from her giant purse, tossing it at me and laughing. "You didn't think I'd forget about you, did ya?"

The three of us sat in silence for a few minutes, me scarfing down the fries and my grandfather doing the best he could to eat a little bit of his favorite food.

"I have something for you, Claire." She looked like she was going to object to my grandfather giving her something, but he feebly raised a hand, halting her protest effectively.

She looked at me like I had something to do with the situation, but I just shrugged. I knew as little as she did, and was probably more confused than her seeing as how I'd been by his side almost the whole time he'd been here, leaving very little time for him to have something smuggled in.

"Reach in that drawer there beside you. It's in a little leather pouch." She did what was asked of her, albeit somewhat hesitantly, and placed the bag in pop's outstretched hand. He was having trouble with the drawstring, so Claire gently took it back from him, pulled the skinny leather straps apart, and poured the contents of the pouch into his open palm.

As soon as I saw it, I realized what it was. I immediately stiffened, unsure about what Claire's reaction would be-not now, but later, when I got a chance to talk to her alone.

"It's beautiful, pop," she whispered reverently. "What is it? It's…it looks…it looks important, too important for me to take."

"This is a family heirloom, Delainey Claire. It was made by my great-great-grandfather. In our lineage, the Ateara lineage, he is the furthest descendent that we have been able to collect any physical record of, and that is because of this little bracelet that you see here. Do you have any idea of its purpose, Claire?" She shook her head, and I silently prayed that what she was about to hear next didn't scare her off—didn't scare her away from me.

"He made this bracelet to give to his imprint, his soul mate, his other half. When she died, the bracelet was passed on to the imprint of their son, and then to my grandfather, who, though he never shifted, gave it to his wife, and then when my father shifted and imprinted, gave it to my mother. I gave it to Nova, my wife, and now I am passing it on to you, Claire, in hopes that you will help to continue this tradition. It has lasted for two centuries, and though it is old and weathered, it is still strong, and it is my wish that you wear this until it may be passed down to my great-grandchildren one day."

HIS grandchildren. Way to be subtle, gramps.

But if this gave her any kind of disturbance, she didn't show it. In fact, she gave him a watery smile, fervently nodding her head up and down as she placed her hand in his, squeezing the faded brown string made from cedar and adorned with a simple beige seashell and small white beads in between their palms.

She took it from him, and as she slipped it on her right wrist, she looked at me with something in her eyes that I'd never seen before, and though it made my insides squirm, I couldn't quite put my finger on what exactly it was.

She stood from the chair, leaned over the plastic rail of the bed, and hugged my grandfather as fiercely as she could without being too rough. As she embraced him I heard her whisper, "I think I can manage that." I thought my heart was gonna stop right there. Thank God I was already in a hospital.

"I love you, pop," she said, pulling away, and then, with one more glance at me, sat back down in the chair and cradled his hand in both of hers, looking like she was settling in for awhile.

I grabbed the chair that had been sitting by the window and moved it to the other side of the bed, alternating my gaze from my grandfather to Claire for the next hour before my father came back in with my aunt Kelly.

Three hours later, my grandfather slipped away peacefully after he'd drifted off to sleep to the sound of Claire humming the lullaby I sang her when she was little.

Claire held my hand as we walked out of the automatic doors of the hospital the next morning after I couldn't sit there anymore and listen to my dad and aunt discuss funeral plans while my grandfather's body now grew cold in the morgue.

She held my hand during visitation, standing right by my side from the time the first person came to pay their respects until the last person had left.

She held my hand during the entirety of the graveside service the next day, tightening her grasp briefly when I came back to her from standing up to speak about pop, and then again when his casket was lowered into the ground.

She held my hand and stayed by my side at the pack bonfire that night that had been put together to celebrate my grandfather's life, and as a tribute to him for the tremendous help he'd been to us wolves over the years.

She hugged me for five minutes before she left with her family to return to their home in the wee hours of the morning.

I left right after she did, thoroughly exhausted and hoping to find some time to grieve in solace.

I lay in bed that night and, in a rare moment that I hadn't experienced since I was a child (except for when it came to a younger, rebellious Claire), cried myself to sleep.

It was still dark when I found myself being awakened by the sound of my door creaking open. I threw myself into a sitting position, preparing to move into a crouch in case I needed to phase, when I saw her.

"Claire? Claire, geez, you scared me! What are you doing here? It's five a.m. Are you okay?"

"Sorry, Quil. I'm fine." I flopped back onto my pillow, visibly relaxing, and she moved closer to the bed. "I didn't mean to alarm you. I just—I didn't want you to be alone tonight, Quilly." With that, she stripped out of her sweatshirt and long pants, revealing shorts and a wife beater, then crawled on top of the mattress and snuggled into my side, throwing her leg across mine and laying her head on my shoulder.

"Are you okay?" she said, staring into my eyes. I nodded, but as soon as I did, I felt the lump form in my throat, not only because I was overwhelmed by my loss and hadn't felt comfortable enough before now to show it, but also because she had come in the middle of the night to be here for me, somehow knowing that I needed her.

"Don't lie, Quil. You can't lie to me. You're my best friend. I know you better than that." I saw tears in her eyes, and I broke.

Inhaling sharply then letting the air rush out of my lungs, I turned onto my side and buried my face in the crook of her neck, holding onto her for dear life as I cried.

She cried with me, rubbing my back and running her hand soothingly through my hair. I pulled away after a few minutes, looking at her as she wiped the tears off of my face.

It was then that I realized how close we were. I couldn't tell where she started and I stopped. She moved her right hand up to cup my face and ran her thumb across my cheek. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed that she had on the bracelet that my grandfather had passed down to her not three days ago. She followed my gaze and, upon seeing it, smiled at me.

With an intense look in her eyes, the same one I'd seen in them at the hospital, she muttered, "I think there's something I should tell you, Quil."

My head and my heart both went into a synchronized state of bedlam for a moment, and then…

She kissed me.

**A/N: Hope you enjoyed it! Please R&R! Have a great rest of your week! :-]]**

**~darkgoddess**


	9. Chapter 8

**A/N: This chapter is from Claire's point of view, and I must say that THIS has been my favorite chapter to write EVER. I love it, and I hope you guys do to! So, as always, don't forget to review and let me know what you guys think! Thanks, and happy reading! (I would also like to point out that I am thoroughly unhappy with the entire Eclipse trailer aside from the two seconds that Jacob Black is on a hill top without a shirt on. That was definitely my favorite part.) Anyhoo, enjoy! :-]**

**Disclaimer: I'm not Stephanie Meyer. I don't own Twilight. **

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**Claire's POV. **

From the time I was fourteen years old, my name might as well have been Claire "Emotionally Conflicted" Walker. No freaking joke.

You might be asking, "Claire, how could you be emotionally conflicted at fourteen?!"

And my answer would simply be, "Quil Ateara."

From the moment that man took his shirt off at the summer bonfire Emily threw to celebrate the end of my middle school career and upcoming promotion to high school, I was a girl possessed. Sure, I had had crushes on boys in my classes before, and I had even let one or two of them kiss me on the cheek, which gave me the tingly little butterflies in my stomach that one expects to feel when getting kissed at that age, but nothing, and I mean NOTHING, could compare to the switch that when off in my mind and body when Quil peeled that offending piece of material from his torso that day.

Basically, I felt like Mothra, one of Godzilla's arch-nemeses, was going to eat his way out of my digestive system, thus announcing that I, Delainey Claire Walker, was burning with desire for my much older, much, MUCH hotter best friend Quil.

And then, he had to go and ruin my moment by yelling out, "c'mon, Claire-bear! I need one more person on my team for beach volleyball!"

Eff. My. Life.

It was also in that moment that I convinced myself that he could never have any kind of feelings for me other than brotherly, friendly ones, not only because I was so much younger than him and because I was such a tomboy (and according to Embry, when Quil was younger, he preferred over-the-top girly girls-yuck!), but also because I was not his imprint. I knew the story behind the Sam/Emily/Leah love triangle, and I knew Quil well enough to know that even if he ever possibly managed to have any sort of romantic feelings about me, he wouldn't act on them for the sake of not wanting to risk me becoming like Leah.

So, since I wasn't his imprint, and since he'd never be attracted to me, anyway, because I wasn't hot like my sister Tallin or old enough or girly enough and didn't know how the hell to flirt in the first place, I decided to try and get over it.

But that didn't work. Quil was around ALL the TIME. It's very hard to repress your feelings for someone when they're always there for every step you take, and when you both pretty much hang around all of the same people all the time, and when they're always wanting you to come over to their garage to watch them work on your future car and they don't have a shirt on, yet there always manages to be an abundance of glistening sweat pouring down their gorgeous, muscular, freaking HOT body.

So I tried to convince myself to be a lesbian. I had the whole tomboy thing going for me already, so why not take it a step further?

But that didn't work either, because every time Quil took his shirt off in my presence, or ran his hand through his short hair as he leaned over me while he was helping me with my homework and his biceps bulged in my direct line of sight, or when he took me for rides in his wolf form and I could feel all of the contours of his body as he ran beneath me, I was painfully reminded of just how much I wasn't a lesbian, and just why I never COULD be one.

So I threw myself into school and softball. As I got smarter, I took harder classes, which took up more and more of my time. As I got better and better at softball, I got more field time and was eventually asked to play league ball during the summer. My sophomore year of high school, the coach put me on varsity as catcher, which meant more games, and as I proved myself, I got more field time, especially when I realized that I could not only catch, but pitch well enough to be a back-up. The more academic and athletic I became, the more popular I became at school, and the more involved I got with clubs and student council and other stuff.

All of this gave me a plausible excuse to avoid Quil, but every single freaking day when I got home from whatever afterschool activity I was participating in, Quil would be waiting for me at my house to eat dinner with us and then he would drive the two of back to his house so he could work on my car while I did my homework. It never failed.

Don't get me wrong, there's nothing I'd rather have been doing than spending time with my Quil, but every time I looked at him it was just a reminder of what I would never be able to have. He wasn't mine, and he never would be. And, since life sucks, the more time I spent with him, the farther and harder I fell for him. I tried not to ever let my feelings show. I kept on being his little Claire-bear, his good-natured, light-hearted, fun-loving best friend. I tried to tell him everything about my day and everything I was doing and everything I was feeling about everything except for what I was feeling about him, and I think I did a pretty good job. He didn't seem to ever notice anything different, so I kept up my façade, desperately hoping that some boy would come along and help me forget, at least temporarily, about the man I couldn't get out of my head or my heart, even though I didn't understand why.

And then, when I was seventeen, after three years of covering up my dark, stupid teenage-girl crush, I met Chris Harper. He was new, and we sat next to each other in two classes. He was on the baseball team, and when we figured out our mutual interest he started sitting with me and some of my friends at lunch. We became fast friends, and I started to become kind of attracted to him. It was nothing like what I felt for Quil, but it was something, and I relished in the idea of liking someone who could like me back. The first month into our senior year, he asked me to go to the first formal of the school year with him. I told him I'd think about it, but I think a small part of me only waited to say yes so that I could see what Quil would say when I told him, clinging to the schoolgirl fantasy that maybe, just maybe it would make him jealous.

He'd been avoiding me that particular week because I'd been on my period, and I hadn't tried to go over there because, quite frankly, if he didn't want me around at that particular time of the month, I wouldn't make any effort to torture him. After Chris asked me to formal, though, I didn't care. I was hoping with everything I had in me that I'd get some kind of reaction from Quil. I knew it was wrong, immensely wrong because, again, I wasn't his imprint. I wasn't his and he wasn't mine, but after softball practice that day I hitched a ride from Paul to go to Quil's, anyway.

I found him in the garage, exactly where I knew he'd be. It was where he spent most of his time when he wasn't on patrol or working at the auto shop closer to town these days, even though I wasn't sure why. I made small talk with him for a little while, complaining about my day and telling him about some parts for the car that I'd asked Coach Davis to find for me since his family owned the only dealership in Forks.

Quil started staring at me really funny that day, but I figured he was just thinking about the dirt left on my face from the sliding session during practice or how smelly my feet were from being confined to cleats and thick cotton socks for the past three hours.

When I finally bucked up the courage to tell him about Chris, and tried to jokingly ask him if he was going to stalk us, he told me in sort of a roundabout way that he didn't have a problem with it, or rather, that he wasn't going to stalk us. My heart plummeted. In true, tough-as-nails-Claire fashion, I tried not to let him see how much it hurt me that he didn't show any negative feelings at all towards me going out with some other guy. I could feel the tears coming, so I improvised and threw my arms around his neck, thanking him and telling him how great of guy Chris was and what not.

Then, Quil got angry. He got REALLY angry. And I felt a glimmer of hope. I was too thrilled that I didn't even care that this meant he probably hadn't been listening to me the first time.

I put up a half-hearted fight against his furious questioning just to save face, but then, when I asked him who he thought he was and where he got off telling me I couldn't go out with Chris, he let the word slip.

Imprint.

Imprint, imprint, imprint.

"I'm NOT your father, but you ARE my imprint!"

I was his imprint. I was Quillian Elijah Ateara's imprint. His freaking imprint.

I had suffered in vain for three years, kept my feelings hidden for three years, been wallowing in agony for three years because I thought he wasn't mine, thought he would never be mine, when all along, he was.

And he never told me.

Then it was my turned to get pissed. And this time when I got pissed, I got livid.

I ran away from him. And then I cried. I cried for myself, for him, for my anger, for my relief.

I ran to Emily's. I ran to Emily and I told her everything. I was so angry with him that I asked her if he'd only been my friend because of the imprint, if he'd only stuck around because gravity was pushing him towards me, if he'd only ever pursue any kind of relationship with me because he had to. Yes, I was hurt, hurt and angry beyond belief, but I knew none of that could be true,knew that Quil hadn't felt like I'd been forced upon him, and Emily confirmed it when she looked at me like I was retarded. She told me that just because gravity had brought us together didn't mean that anything in our relationship hadn't been or wouldn't be just as real as any other normal relationship.

"You are everything to that stupid, stubborn man-child," she said. "From the time you were two years old you've been the most important thing in his life. Aside from his grandfather, you've been the only constant, reliable thing. He loves you. No matter what the initial cause of that love, it's grown into a love for who you are, Claire. He would do anything for you. Just go easy on him. He's an idiot for not telling you sooner, but in his mind it was the right thing to do."

I spent the night with my aunt and uncle and cousins. When Sam had heard what happened I'm pretty sure he wanted to flip shit on Quil, but I talked him out of it. Even if I was mad at Quil, he was still my Quil, and I didn't want anything or anyone to hurt him.

So I told Chris I couldn't go with him because, knowing what I now knew, it would have hurt Quil. I should've wanted to hurt him, but I couldn't. I just told Chris that I wasn't going to be able to go to formal at all because I had a scholarship interview that weekend, which was a lie, but he'd never know. He moved on to some other piece of ass, and I didn't care.

I couldn't look at Quil for months. I couldn't talk to him. I had no idea what to say. I was angry at him, yes, so angry, but I loved him. GOD did I love him. I still didn't know how he felt about me, though, or why he'd kept everything from me. He said he hadn't told me because he just wanted me to have a normal life, but was that really the case? What if he didn't tell me because he just wanted to be my friend? I knew that him imprinting on me meant that he'd be whatever I needed him to be, but what if, since I was so much younger than him, he thought that I only needed him as my friend?

I was ashamed. Ashamed that I loved him so much, ashamed that my family hadn't thought enough of me to tell me, ashamed that everyone in the pack knew that I knew, ashamed that they thought I hated Quil's guts when all I really wanted to do was kiss him until my lips fell off.

For my eighteenth birthday, I locked myself in my room. Quil wouldn't be there to celebrate with me, so I decided not to celebrate at all. Mom made a cake and my favorite dinner, and they got me a new laptop that I could use for college, but that was it. I refused to have a bonfire or a pack party, and no one pushed the idea because of what had happened that day in Quil's garage.

I got a phone call in November from some scouts who represented a school in the Southeast. They had one of the best softball programs in the region, possibly even the country, and they wanted me. I agreed to send them some tapes of me practicing. I didn't want to go that far, I didn't want to be that far away from Quil, but this was an opportunity that I couldn't pass up and I knew it. This was my dream. I told my parents, but decided to wait until Christmas to tell everyone else. Really, I just didn't want anyone else to know before Quil because I knew that it would eventually be slipped to him through the pack mind, so I figured I could just wait and tell them all at the same time.

Christmas rolled around. A week before the pack gathering, I decided I couldn't take not being a part of Quil's life anymore, so I went to Port Angeles to get him a Christmas present. My gift idea may have been a bit backwards, but I knew that I might as well have been the one to imprint on him, it sure felt like it, at any rate, so I thought getting him a leather necklace with a wolf charm seemed appropriate-something similar to what all the other imprinted wolves had given to their significant other.

I pretended to sleep in that morning so my family would go ahead of me to Emily's that afternoon. I was going to be wearing something that I knew my parents would look at me funny for and question me about if they saw me before I left the house. I was going to wear Quil's grandmother's pearl necklace. I considered it to be a kind of peace offering of sorts, and I wanted to let him know that he still meant something to me, even if I hadn't been showing it.

I also had the wolf necklace wrapped tightly around my wrist, hidden underneath my lightweight jacket in hopes that I'd get a chance to give it to him discreetly before the end of the party.

As soon as I walked through the door my eyes automatically sought him out, but I went against the pull and began to look for Nessie, hoping for a distraction so that I didn't spill my guts to him right there in the living room in front of everyone.

When it came time for gift-giving, I pushed Quil's aside for later, because I knew when I opened it I would bawl my eyes out and I wanted to save myself the embarrassment of doing it in front of everybody, especially Quil.

After everything had been unwrapped and the mess had been cleaned up, Emily brought out more food and I took the opportunity to make my announcement. Embry and Jake, being the idiots that they are, jumped up and started freaking out, running in circles around me and laughing.

But I just wanted to know what Quil thought. I didn't care about anyone else's opinion, not even my parents', just his.

He looked dejected. I didn't know whether to feel triumphant or to have an emotional breakdown. Unexpectedly, though, he crossed the room in two long strides, congratulated me and enveloped me in a hug. Then he kissed my forehead gently, sending my poor little heart into overdrive, and fled the house before I could even move a muscle.

I stood shocked for a moment, and then took off after him, running faster than I ever had in my life and not caring about any of the reactions that I left behind in Emily's living room.

His body called out to me, and I flew down the dirt road that led away from the house, screaming his name for everything I was worth.

He turned swiftly, saying something to me about not wearing a coat, but it barely registered as I flung myself onto him, latching on with a pitiful cry.

He just held me as I sobbed into his shirt, telling him how much I missed him. He told me he missed me too, and kept apologizing, telling me what an idiot he was.

I untangled the necklace from my wrist and gave it to him hesitantly. No other "wolf-girl" had done this before, and I didn't want to look stupid, but he WAS my best friend, no matter what happened, so I gave it to him anyway.

Hearing him tell me it was the best present he'd ever gotten brightened my mood considerably, and after he showed me MY present-my completely refinished car that he'd installed a bangin' stereo system into and painted the exact black tint that I wanted (and he had even had the grill and muffler CHROMED, for God's sake!)-he was completely and totally forgiven.

We fell easily back into our old routine, I just avoided him much less. Unfortunately this routine also included us being just friends. Neither one of us had the guts to bring the subject up, I guess, so nothing was ever said. I wasn't sure how he felt about me, so instead of facing crippling rejection, I opted once again for suffering in silence.

He cried when I graduated with all honors. I thought it was hilarious. He just pulled me-boisterous laughter and all-into an enormous hug and told me to shut up because he was so proud of me that he was allowed to cry. The rest of the pack didn't see it that way, though, and ribbed him all day about "how much of a pussy he was."

He looked like he was going to cry the day he and my parents had to leave me in Georgia. As soon as he left, I had a freaking panic attack, and it was still going full-force when he called me to let me know they made it back to Seattle. As soon as he heard my voice he said he was getting back on a plane to come and get me, which made me laugh and I was able to convince him to stay put, because this was my dream. That was only half the truth, though. If I'd have told him the whole truth, he'd have known that what I really dreamed of was being with him all the time and marrying him and having his children and growing old and wrinkly with him. But I didn't. I couldn't. I wouldn't.

As time wore on and my freshman year of college turned into my sophomore year, I was busier than I thought one person should ever have to be. Between softball and trying to keep my grades up, it was all I could fit into a day. Quil called me every single day, though, and he eventually got us both webcams because he told me he couldn't stand not being able to see my face for such long periods of time. As soon as I got off the phone with him after he told me that, I did a freaking Irish jig. My roommate looked like she was going to call campus police for a while, but we'd become pretty good friends, and even though I'd never told her how I felt, she knew. It wasn't that hard to see, I guess, considering I talked to Quil and about Quil more than anyone else.

A few months into my junior year of college, I got called away from a late practice to the coach's office for a phone call. It was my aunt Emily. She told me that it was finally Old Quil's time to pass on, and before she could even ask me, I told her I'd be back in La Push in two days, and asked her not to say anything to anyone else because I didn't want anyone to leave to come and get me. I'd just take a taxi from the small airport in Port Angeles.

I explained to the coach that there was going to be a death in the family soon, took a two-week leave of absence from school, and hopped on a red-eye flight back to Washington because I knew that Quil would need me there now more than ever.

The whole flight back I cried, because not only was I losing someone who I'd grown up around and who'd practically been my grandfather, but I cried also because he'd as good as raised Quil when Quil's father was too devastated over his mother's abandonment to be the dad he needed to be. He meant so much to Quil, and I knew how much losing his grandfather was going to devastate him.

I could tell he hadn't been expecting me when he opened the door to the hospital room to reveal me standing there fidgeting.

All I could do when I saw him was hug him and breathe him in.

Old Quil gave me an imprint bracelet that had been passed down through his family for generations, and after I promised him that I'd do my best to keep the tradition alive in his family, I made a silent promise to myself that after everyone, especially Quil, had gotten over the initial tidal wave of grief, I would tell Quil how I felt.

I spent the rest of the night, Old Quil's last few hours, in the hospital room on the opposite side of the bed from my Quilly. I hummed my favorite lullaby as I held pop's hand and I could feel Quil's gaze on me every time he'd look away from his grandfather, which wasn't that often.

After the heart monitor flat-lined and the doctors rushed us from the room, Quil and I stood alone together in the hallway outside the room, me on one wall and him staring into my eyes from the other.

When he slumped down to the ground and put his hands over his face in defeat, I slid down beside of him and wrapped my arms around his calf that was closest to me, resting my forehead on his knee and just being there with and for him.

I held his hand when we left the hospital, during visitation, and during the graveside service. I didn't leave his side the whole time we were at the pack bonfire, forcing him to eat, knowing that I was the only one who would be able to get him to.

Before we parted ways that night I just hugged him for awhile. My body seemed to instinctively know that that's what he needed, so that's exactly what I did.

After I got home, I couldn't sleep at all. There was an unusual feeling gnawing at the pit of my stomach, and it refused to go away. So I got up and decided to go to the only place that made sense at the time. I threw on some warm clothes over my pajamas and hopped on Blaze, the four-wheeler that Quil had gotten me when I was younger. I hadn't been on it in years but my little brother Fyn kept it in tip-top shape, so it still ran pretty decently.

When I got to Quil's, I grabbed the spare key from under the mat, quietly slipping into the house. I could only hear one set of snores, so I figured Embry was with Layla, his super nice, incredibly awesome imprint, at her apartment in Port Angeles. I tip-toed down the hallway to Quil's room, and as I opened the door I heard his snoring halt. I was startled when he flew into a sitting position.

"Claire? Claire, geez, you scared me! What are you doing here? It's five a.m. Are you okay?" His eyebrows had shot up almost to his hairline and his face was pulled into a grimace.

"Sorry, Quil. I'm fine." I hurriedly tried to calm him down before he went into frantic over-protective Quil mode. It worked and he flopped back down onto his pillow with a relieved sigh. "I didn't mean to alarm you. I just—I didn't want you to be alone tonight, Quilly." I stripped off my sweat clothes and crawled into bed, snuggling into his side to get warm again.

"Are you okay?" I asked, already knowing the answer as I stared into his chocolate eyes that had slowly begun to fill with tears at my question. When he nodded, trying to hide it, I admonished him. "Don't lie, Quil. You can't lie to me. You're my best friend. I know you better than that." And then I felt myself tear up. When he saw that, he grabbed me, rolling over onto his side and burying his face into my neck.

I just held him as he cried, knowing it was something he needed to do this one time so that he could feel better. I cried with him, not sure if I was crying because of pop's death or because Quil, who very, VERY rarely ever cried, was crying, or maybe it was for both reasons. I just laid there surrounded by his intense heat that I'd grown accustomed to over the years, rubbing his back and running my fingers through his hair just to let him know I was there and that I understood.

When he pulled back from me I wiped the wetness from under his eyes with the tips of my fingers, and as I looked at him, I knew it was now or never.

"I think there's something I should tell you, Quil."

All of the words that I wanted to say jumbled together in my head and got stuck in my throat, so I proceeded to do the only thing I physically could at the moment. I took his face between my hands, gently caressing his cheeks as I kept staring at him, hoping that if I looked at him long enough I could convey what I was feeling, that I could make him understand, that I could muster up enough courage to take the plunge and do what I'd wanted to do since before I was old enough to understand why.

I kissed him.

And then, he kissed me back.

* * *

**There you have it! I hope you liked it, and please don't forget to review! Thanks for reading, guys! The next chapter should be up within the next few weeks or so...**

**~darkgoddess**


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